Salazar's Sorrow
by Emiliya Wolfe
Summary: From fen he came, but he did not always journey alone. Why did Salazar Slytherin hate Muggleborns and Muggles? Where did his traits of resourcefulness and self-preservation come from? And more importantly, where did he go after that argument with Godric Gryffindor?


Salazar gasped, leaning a hand against the cool marble pillar as he felt something wrench deep inside of his chest.

 _Funny,_ he thought. _Godric made it perfectly clear he didn't think I had a heart_.

He knew he should have left immediately, taken a last look at the castle the way the N.E.W.T. students did at the end of their seventh year and locked bittersweet nostalgia away for a rainy day. That was how it went, wasn't it? The hero at the end of the novel, making off into the wilderness, alone save for the knowledge that he was doing the right thing.

The greater good, as Godric would have said.

The wry smile that had found its way to Salazar's lips fell away as his eyes started to burn.

 _I'll only be a moment_ , he told himself, sliding down to the comfortingly unyielding floor, bracing his hands against the stone. Grimy water lapped at his fingertips, but he didn't mind. He had always preferred water to fire anyway.

* * *

' _Ha… hal… hal-a-gaz,' the young girl stumbled over the runes, frustratedly brushing her long, dark plait out of the way. 'Halagaz,' she stated, claiming ownership of the word._

' _That's it, Morrigan,' her older brother said encouragingly. 'And what does it mean?'_

' _Destruction,' she replied, revelling in the way the word curled over her tongue. 'Can I write it now?'_

' _Not yet,' the boy replied, laughing at her glare as he ruffled her hair. 'With your luck, this cabin will come tumbling down on us instead of on the Muggles.'_

' _Salazar!' Morrigan exclaimed indignantly. 'Mam said you weren't supposed to do that anymore!'_

' _Mam isn't here, though, is she?' Salazar said with a smirk._

 _Morrigan's hand dropped. Nervously, she rose to her feet to look through the cracks between the stones._

' _They've been away for a while now, haven't they?' she asked quietly. 'Longer than usual.'_

' _They have,' Salazar replied. He saw no need to keep Morrigan's hopes up. It would only be crueller in the end. 'But Uncle Fergus told us to stay still until we smelled smoke, and there aren't any fires around yet. There's nothing we can do except practice your runes. Now, what does_ Laguz _mean?'_

* * *

Salazar traced his fingers around the runes carved into the marble. _Laguz_ : Water. No living creature would survive the ages without it, no matter how immortal they were.

As if responding to his thoughts, ripples spread across the shallow pool. Salazar listened to the waves separate at the coming of the snake, surprisingly silent for her great girth. As the Basilisk came into view, he noted that she was already as long as he was tall and half as wide. In the coming centuries, she would only grow. He had ensured that there would be a steady supply of fish pouring in from the Great Lake. Not very appetising, but enough to satisfy the snake when she woke from hibernation every few decades.

The Basilisk didn't seem to notice her size, however, sliding into Salazar's lap as she had when she was but a snakeling. She was heavy, but the weight was not unwelcome. Salazar needed something real, something tangible, right now. Absently, he cupped water into his right hand, smoothing it over her scales and removing the debris. A curious tendril probed his mind, seeking out what was wrong.

' _Nothing you can help with_ ,' he hissed, slipping into the language of his youth. It had always felt more natural than English, more a part of him. Until the witch hunts began.

* * *

' _This can't go on forever, Sal,' Morrigan said flatly, her eyes already world-weary at the young age of thirteen. 'They'll find us. They'll kill us. They've already got Uncle Fergus.'_

' _Uncle Fergus got sloppy,' Salazar hissed back, stopping so suddenly his sister almost ran into him. 'What's the first rule, Morrigan?'_

 _Morrigan sighed, biting the insides of her cheeks._

' _Never be seen,' she intoned._

' _And the second?'_

' _Never get caught.'_

' _Uncle Fergus failed us, Morrigan,' Salazar said sharply. 'He has more experience, but he's tried to cut corners ever since they caught Mam. We can't cut corners with our safety. Self-preservation must come before all else.'_

' _Sal, you've said this a million times!' Morrigan complained, stretching her arms wide. 'I've been on the run for more than half of my life; don't you think I know the rules?'_

 _Salazar opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off._

' _Don't you think losing our home taught me that lesson? Watching Da die? Why are we going back there? Why aren't we fleeing the country with the rest of the witches and wizards we met?'_

' _And what makes you think England will treat us better than Ireland?' Salazar bit back, his eyes flashing dangerously. Immediately, he closed his eyes, regretting his harsh words. Morrigan needed hope, to cling to the idea that things would get better in the end. Salazar knew that hope was a fickle friend. 'What's the third rule, Morri?' he asked, reverting back to her childhood nickname._

' _Never let them win,' she replied, her face as hard as stone._

' _Exactly,' Salazar said with a grim smile. He turned and started the long trek back to Dublin. 'I'll be damned if I let them do to Uncle Fergus what they did to Mam and Da.'_

* * *

Salazar had never expected to find trust again. Never expected to find a family, a home he would truly feel safe in.

Instead, he found three other misfits, more powerful than they had any right to be, all with one shared goal: to create a safe haven for wizards and witches alike. Helga had suggested they build a school. After all, adults knew how to assimilate into the Muggle populace, and failing that, how to kill, injure or maim to survive. Those who didn't, well, it was impossible to teach them anyway.

The children were another story.

Whether they were born amongst Muggles, or whether their parents abandoned them to better flee themselves, the result was the same. Too many magical children were at risk. Too many didn't have the education they so desperately needed. The number of Obscurials was at a record high, and the reality was that something needed to be done.

So Rowena had set about warding a neglected castle, Helga had collected as many house-elves as she could, Godric had convinced parents that the children were better off in Scotland, and Salazar had bartered, promised, begged, threatened and stolen until he had the funds they needed to keep the operation going.

It had worked well, for the most part. There were a few disagreements, but nothing that was insurmountable. Salazar grew used to the friendly touch of a hand on his arm, the warmth of a fire and a mug of spiced Butterbeer. More than that, the students had looked up to him, depended on him, _needed_ him in a way he hadn't been needed for years.

Until the moment they were safe no longer.

* * *

' _Do you remember all you have to do?' Salazar asked as they crouched behind a hedge._

 _Morrigan's eyes remained trained on their uncle. He cut quite the figure with his hands tied behind his back, a cowl covering his face. Surrounding the platform was a bloodthirsty mob, braying for the death of a murderer_ — _whether he had committed the crimes or not. In Salazar's view, killing Muggles in self-defence shouldn't be construed as murder._

' _Carve the runes into the wood of all four corners, wait for your signal, then run to the safe place,' she replied tightly. 'I wish Mam was here.'_

 _Their mother had done all she could to rally the wizards remaining in Ireland to their uncle's cause. The Catholics were determined to root out all witchcraft from Ireland, and didn't mind who they took down with them, especially if they technically owned land like Uncle Fergus. At one point, it seemed like Mam had enough influence to buy his freedom, but then someone betrayed her. They hadn't seen her since, but the fact that the priests knew about all their hiding places was evidence enough._

' _Good.' Salazar nodded curtly, watching Morrigan cast an illusion before blending into the crowd. He hoped that she wouldn't draw too much attention to herself. Moving from place to place had forced her to grow up half-feral, and he worried that she wouldn't act becoming of a teenage girl._

 _He shook his head, clearing his mind._

'Serpensortia,' _he intoned quietly, conjuring snake after snake. When the priest arrived, Salazar would like to see how he dealt with the fact that they hadn't chased off all the snakes from Ireland._

 _They coiled around his wrists, his arms, his neck. Some couldn't resist the temptation to squeeze, but a short command soon put a stop to that._

' _Soon, my lovelies,' he crooned. It always paid to put on the charm with the reptiles; one never knew if they'd turn against their master. 'You'll get your fill soon enough.'_

 _They jabbered at him, all clamouring to be heard, so much that he almost missed Morrigan taking position on the church steps, signalling that she had finished her work._

' _Attack.'_

 _The simple command was all the prompting the snakes needed to rush towards the crowd. As screams started to fill the air, Salazar saw Morrigan mouthing the words she had practiced over and over every night for the past six months._

 _Four cracks sounded like firecrackers in Salazar's ears as the wood holding the platform up snapped like twigs under boots. The screams grew louder when fire filled the air, the flames eagerly licking at everything they could touch._

 _Salazar had no pity for those who were willing to let an innocent man die._

 _Quickly casting an Impervious Charm on himself, he slipped into the crowd. It was easy to get to his uncle, easier still to cut his bonds._

' _Salazar,' Fergus gasped._

 _If Salazar didn't know his profile by heart, he wouldn't have recognised his uncle. His cheekbones had caved in from where he had been beaten, his hair lank and falling away from his skull and his glasses were nowhere to be seen. His eyes glittered with an almost feral look, filled with fear._

' _We've got you now, Uncle.'_

' _Morrigan,' Fergus said, ignoring Salazar's ministrations. 'Where is she? Don't tell me she's gone to the cabin.'_

 _Salazar's heart sank to his stomach as he caught the glint of guilt in his uncle's eyes. Grasping his uncle by the collar, he Apparated into the woods by the cabin, not caring that someone could have seen him. Fergus whimpered, backing away into a root and falling to the floor._

' _What did you do?' Salazar asked, but his voice fell flat, his eyes riveted on the scene before him._

' _They made me!' Fergus said quickly, his breath coming in short gasps. 'They tortured me! They didn't want warlocks; they only wanted witches!'_

' _And so you sold out your niece like a rat!' Salazar snarled, whirling round to glare at his uncle._

' _It's self-preservation! It's what we've always_ —'

 _But Salazar didn't stop to hear what they'd always done. He had his sister to save._

' _Avada Kedavra.'_

* * *

Something wet touched Salazar's cheek, and it took him a moment to realise that the Basilisk was tasting the tears upon his face. A laugh bubbled up at the improbability of it all, but all too soon, that laugh turned into a choked sob, which turned into gut-wrenching gasps and howls.

The Basilisk reared back in surprise, but soon realised that her master meant her no harm. Sensing his distress, she slid hesitatingly from one side of the pillar to the next, searching for the enemy. Eventually, she coiled in his lap, all six feet of her, wrapping herself around his body to stand guard.

But reptiles were cold-blooded, and nothing could match the warmth of a friend's embrace.

Salazar found himself reaching out, reaching for his sister to smooth her curls and kiss her head, as he should have all those years ago, instead of drilling her with runes and charms and spells that were ultimately useless.

Reaching out for Godric and Helga and Rowena, who somehow always had a comforting word, a companionable silence, the reassurance that nothing of the sort would ever happen again.

Those reassurances were dead now.

He had trusted them once, allowing the Muggle-borns to be taught in the school along with wizarding kind. He had let himself be tricked, or rather he had tricked himself, into believing their platitudes despite the fact that Muggles had taken his entire family from him.

He should have known better.

The words still haunted him — his Slytherin Prefect telling him through tears that her little brother would not be joining her at Hogwarts that year after all. A Muggle-born, it didn't matter which one, had told their parents, broken the vow of secrecy of the castle's existence. Worse than that, they had found out they lived in the same village as their schoolmates. The Muggle-born believed there to be no harm.

The father had believed otherwise and set his Muggle sons on the family. To teach them a lesson, presumably. But the sons had only found a boy with powers that frightened them, and in turn they frightened him more.

Ostensibly, the boy had lost his magical powers. Salazar suspected that another Obscurial had been born that day. Be as that may, another student had been lost, though his sister remained safe at Hogwarts.

Godric had blustered about reinforcing the wards, of not blaming children for their parents' mistakes. Rowena had been all cool logic, telling him that the children would be better educated, that she would find a way to create an unbreakable bond that held a witch to her word. Helga had simply stated that to err was to be human.

Salazar had held out these excuses against the tears of an older sibling and deemed them lacking.

* * *

' _Sal!' Morrigan screamed when she spotted him. 'Sal!'_

 _She struggled against her bonds, the ropes that trussed her up like a freshly caught doe._

No, not a doe, _Salazar told himself. His sister was beautiful but deadly; a snake that bided its time before striking. She was putting on an act._

 _Still, he raced towards the cabin, firing as many killing curses as he could, but none succeeded the way they did with his uncle. He poured his will, his intent, into his magic and repeated the words, watching with satisfaction as a flash of green light dropped a man in his tracks._

 _Another one took his place._

 _They stuffed a rag in his sister's mouth, but that didn't matter. She had her wand; she had her magic… didn't she? Salazar put on an extra burst of speed as he saw them near the pond, but that was the moment the men chose to deem him a threat, and he was pulled to the ground in a grapple that required physical force to break._

' _Morrigan!' he called, elbowing a man in the face and dragging himself out of the other's grasp. 'Get off my sister, you bastards!'_

 _Her muffled screams suddenly stopped, drowned out by a splash of water and a loud cheer. A wand she couldn't reach wouldn't help her now._

' _Don't worry, boy,' someone called to him as he neared. 'If she's a witch, she'll float.'_

 _In response, Salazar punched him in the nose._

 _He had never been strong though, always relying on speed and stealth to get the job done. He had lost his wand somewhere in the previous tussle, and now he realised just what a mistake that had been as a blow to the stomach had him on his knees gasping for air._

 _He didn't know how many times he reached out, tried to crawl through the crowd, but the cruel laughter rang in his ears as they held him back, always careful to avoid hitting his face to let him better see the bubbles rising to the surface with no hint of Morrigan. One thought it funny to repeatedly jab him with a stick, which Salazar realised with a sinking heart was Morri's wand._

 _Eventually, they grew bored and left, jostling and carousing as they went._

 _Salazar dragged himself to the water's edge, never pausing as he sank into its icy depths._

' _Morrigan,' he mumbled to himself before plunging his head under the surface, forcing his eyes open to better scan the murky water._

 _A tendril of white caught his attention and he swam towards it, grabbing it before his air ran out and he kicked back to the surface._

 _In death she was perfect_ — _washed of the grime that marred her face in life, her white clothing making her seem like the angel she had never been. He clutched at her, moaning her name, until the last vestiges of warmth had left her body and there was nothing left but a husk of the fiery girl he loved._

* * *

Salazar's arms ached with the memory, goosebumps rising on the surface of his skin as they touched the Basilisk — too smooth, too scaled, too small. Reluctantly, he told her to go back home, to finish with her vigil.

Perhaps there was one last thing he could do for his students: ensure that nothing like this happened again.

With a slash of his wand, his fingertip beaded bright red blood. Morrigan had always cut her palms with a knife, stating that the Muggle way would be the Muggles' undoing, but Salazar preferred to draw his runes with precision.

A 'Y' shape, with a long vertical line stretching up. Over and over and over again, he wrote the rune for protection, melding it into the school's structure. If a student of the old blood called for help, they would always be answered, even when help was not apparent.

All too soon, his task was over and there was nothing left but the binding. Blood begot blood and the more powerful a spell, the greater the sacrifice.

But to Salazar's eyes, the deep embrace of icy water felt like coming home.

* * *

QLFC: write a traditionally dark character needing comfort. 3026 words.

Hogwarts Task #11 — Notable Nasties: Salazar Slytherin

Character appreciation: 16. (trait) loyal

Disney Challenge: Theme - Guilt

Showtime: 5. Step One - (word) Impossible

Buttons: (object) scales

Lyric Alley: 8. To let the sparks die out

Sophie's Shelf: 1. Josephine Anwhistle: Write about someone who is anxious about everything.

Em's Emporium: 1. Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass: Write about hitting rock bottom.

Lo's Lowdown: Character 11. Governor Kodos: write about someone doing a terrible thing for what they think are the right reasons.

Insane House Challenge - Salazar Slytherin

Days of the Year - World Ocean Day: Write a story that takes place in, on, or under the water.

Seasonal - Flowers: Foxglove - (word) heart

Elemental: Fire Element - (word) Flames

Shay's Musical Challenges - 10. 1776: write about fighting for an unpopular cause

Gryffindor prompts (character) Godric Gryffindor, (traits) short-tempered

Summer Astrology prompts: (emotion) Anger

Gobstones - Silver stone: darkness, accuracy: (trait) coward, power: (trait) pessimistic, technique: (word) simple

Chocolate Frog Cards: (silver) Cyprian Youdle: write about a tragic death

Film club: (word) freedom

Fire faerie: flame, burn, fire

Debate Club - Family: someone gets injured

Eagle Day - (creature) basilisk (bonus), (object) glasses


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